Disappear
by i.paint.the.sky
Summary: Desire deals with the more terrible loss of its life: the death of the first Despair.


[A/N: Trying to use pronouns for Desire is the most annoying thing in the world. And I thought writing slash was bad

**Disappear**

Something was wrong, something was very wrong. Desire knew this in every fibre of its being. The feeling reached it even in the literal heart of its realm. It didn't know what it was. No, that was wrong. Part of it knew, or at least suspected, but could not bear to acknowledge that. No, it couldn't be _that_.

Desire knew where it had to go now and so it began to drift upwards, towards the Threshold's head. Towards the gallery that lay within, the one place that would show the truth. Even if Desire didn't want to see it.

The scene it discovered there was shocking but unsurprising. Sharp shards lay on the floor, cutting into Desire's feet. It didn't feel a thing. All it could do was stare at the line of frames and at the one besides its own, which was now broken into a million pieces.

Despair was dead.

Logically, it wasn't so surprising. Desire's twin had spent her entire existence walking the suicide line. But it was still a shock to have it actually happen. To have this hole within the ranks of the Endless, and within Desire's soul as well. It liked to pretend that ties of family were unimportant – especially with Dream because that was fun – but was aware of the lie. Despair had been Desire's other part; they had always been there for each other. And now it was over. She was gone.

This reality danced in Desire's head, spinning and twirling and was alwayscompletely unacceptable. No, Despair couldn't leave, she couldn't. Not now, not ever. It reached towards the mirror, watching as its hands were sliced up by the jagged edges of glass that still clung to the frame. Pain and despair had always gone together; no one knew that better than Desire did.

Down the gallery row, Death's face was beginning to appear. Desire wanted nothing to do with her – she was not the sister it wanted to see. With hands still dripping with blood, Desire reached over and grabbed its heart sigil from the frame and flung it to the ground. This realm was closed.

Time passed. It didn't matter how much. Maybe it was a couple hours or a couple days; perhaps an entire year passed or a millennium. It was still not long enough. Desire hurt, both inside and out, and it never stopped.

"Desire."

A voice; its sister's voice, but not the right one. Grudgingly, Desire turned to face Death, watching her through narrowed eyes.

"You know you can't stay here forever," she said as she sat down nearby.

"I see no reason why not."

She was watching, eyebrows raised. "Of course you do." Death gave a small smile. "You know she wouldn't want this."

"I don't care what _she _wanted. She left."

"Yes, she did. But I was there and I know it was not a decision made lightly. She loved us, especially you."

"Then wh-" Desire caught itself, not wanting to expose this weakness, but it was too late.

"Why? Because it was what she felt she had to do. Her burden was great, maybe greater than any that the rest of us bear."

Desire was silent. It knew this was true, but it still didn't make it any easier. Death waited before speaking again, giving her sister-brother time to think.

"This isn't the end."

"What?"

"This isn't the end of Despair. While one is gone, another has been given to us."

"What do you mean?"

Death stood up, smiling again. "Go to Despair's realm." And then she left as quickly as she had come.

Desire didn't want to succumb to her bait, not right away, but curiosity was always one of its greatest flaws. Not too much time had passed before it got up and headed towards its gallery once again, for the first time since everything had happened. And there it found that Despair's mirror was healed and whole again, except for a few small cracks; scar tissue. Cautiously, Desirewalked up to it, staring at the renewed sigil.

"Sister," it spoke softly, not knowing what to expect.

The face that appeared in the frame was strangely familiar. It wasn't the same as it had been, her body was no longer covered in swirling tattoos, but she was Despair. And she wasn't. She looked through the mirror and Desire could see fear in her eyes.

"D…Desire," she said softly, hesitantly. "I...I remember you. In the memories that aren't mine."

"May I visit you?"

"…Yes."

The puzzle itself was still unclear, but the pieces were beginning to go back together again. This Despair was new and old; different and the same. She was its sister.

She hadn't left after all.


End file.
